


Bad Guys Get All the Best Lines

by emmaliza



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Drama, Dream Sequence, Dubious Consent, F/M, Self Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-26
Updated: 2011-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Haven't you been paying any attention? I can't just use you for sex like some douchebag would. I did it once and it was a mistake and I'm sorry. But I'm not that guy, Santana."/"Yeah, you are."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Guys Get All the Best Lines

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Notes:** Written for the Australian flood relief auction, and **iawenbemerry** 's winning bid.

**Bad Guys Get All the Best Lines**

She really, really should not be here.

"Santana?" he asks dubiously. She nods and steps inside without asking.

"Hey, Finnocence," she cooes – he really hates it when she calls him that. "How've you been?"

"Um, okay. Ish." Not really, as the sort of overflowing-with-tissues trashcan in his room says, but _she_ doesn't need to know that. She'd just laugh at him anyway. "Why are you here?"

Santana shrugs. "What, a girl needs an excuse to check up on a friend?"

"We're friends?" Finn asks. "Also, that's usually the bit where you lose your patience with me and start bitching."

She rolls her eyes. Oh, there's his Santana.

"Okay, look – I'm horny and I know where you live now, and I really did work that thing with Berry and get you split, so I really should be reaping the rewards by now."

 _Shit_. She came here to get _laid_. "Uh, Santana... I guess I'm flattered or whatever, that you wanna go again, but I... really don't want to. Sorry." He pauses. "You didn't really break me and Rachel up anyway, that was... uh..."

His stomach lurches wildly as he thinks about it; Puck in Rachel's bed, on top of her, and her wanting him to...

Santana looks pissed. Finn's pretty sure this isn't going well. "Of course," she says. "You're too good for me, right?"

"Huh?" he asks. "No, it's just..." It kind of makes him a dick, but on some level, he wonders if he is too good for her. She's not the nicest person he knows. "...I'm still pretty messed up about the Rachel thing. I wouldn't want to, er, use you, I guess."

Santana scoffs. "Guys do that to me all the time! Isn't that what you were doing last time?"

"I..." He sort of was. He was mad and jealous and hopeless about the Rachel thing, even though he knew he had no right to be, and wanted to feel like he could act like a normal guy and get the fuck over it. Shit, now he feels like a douchebag.

Santana smiles coyly. "So, come on, Finn," she says, laying a hand on his chest. "Let's just do this. Live life like there's no tomorrow. You think I showed you everything I knew?"

Finn blushes and looks away. Okay, yeah, there was some pretty damn hot stuff going on when they hooked up. Still, it doesn't mean he's happy about what happened, or wants to...

"Santana, no," he says. He pushes her hand away, and she glares. "I don't want to do this. I think you better leave."

She raises an eyebrow. "I don't want to."

"Well, it's my house."

She rolls her eyes. "You gonna kick me out? Really?"

"If I have to."

She smirks. "I don't think so," she says, and he frowns in confusion. "Kurt's off at the fancy school he got forced into. Where's your mom and... do you call Hummel Snr. daddy yet? I don't really get this whole step-family thing."

"I just call him Burt," Finn says. "And they're on a date."

"I know; you were whining on facebook about this house being creepy when you're home alone."

"Then why did you ask?" he asks. "None of this makes any sense."

"Okay, I'll spell it out for you – you can kick me out. But you'll be alone again, and you don't want that."

"Wait, you think I'm scared of my house?" he asks. "I was, uh, kind of exaggerating about the creepy factor – I was mostly pissed about Mom and Burt running out–"

"Well, _yeah_ , that's the whole point. God, you're an idiot." Okay, now he's really confused. And getting mad at her. Why won't she just _leave_? "They keep leaving you like this; that's gotta suck."

"I'm seventeen, Santana, I can take care of myself," he says. "Come on, they didn't even get their honeymoon. They can make it up; I understand."

"And yeah, why did that happen?" she says. He frowns. "Kurt? From the looks of it, they blame you for that shit and, well, they probably don't want to be around you too much. If it's any consolation, it's probably his dad more than your mom."

"You don't know them!" he says. How can she – what right does she have to say–

"I know _people_. So frickin' naive, really. 'Course they're blaming you. How could they not?"

Finn cringes, because really, he keeps wondering if he's being blamed for Kurt having to leave. Burt did chew him out for not standing up to Karofsky, and Finn knows how much he misses Kurt. And really, if they're blaming him that makes him wonder if altogether, it's all his fault.

"Santana, just – shut up. Stop talking, please," he says. "I don't need to hear all this. And I really have no idea what it has to do with you wanting to..."

Santana sighs. "Okay, you're not going to believe this – understandably because I'm being a total bitch – but I'm actually trying to help, you know."

"...Yeah, I don't believe that."

Santana chuckles. "Finn, seriously, you'd be _way_ better off if you'd just give in and fuck me."

"I don't see how," he says. "I actually felt like _crap_ after last time it happened, so I've kind of learnt my lesson – I _suck_ at being on the rebound."

"The whole problem is, you keep judging yourself for this shit," she says. "Admit it, Finn – you think you're _horrible_ for fucking me. Because you don't give a shit about me; I was just there; you were all butterflies or whatever for someone else, and you think you just threw it away like, well, something that didn't matter. Am I close?"

Finn winces. Yeah, she's... pretty much right. "I give a shit about you," he weakly defends himself. "I mean, I didn't want you getting hurt or anything."

"Okay, please don't with the corny bullshit. If I puke on you, it's pretty quickly gonna kill any semblance of a mood."

"I don't know what a semblance is, and we really don't have a mood here."

" _Whatever_." She looks pretty pissed by now. "Anyway, the point is – all your little reasons for hating yourself over the fact you tapped this? No-one gives a shit. At all. Finn, you threw it away like something that didn't even matter because _it didn't fucking matter_. So get over it already!"

He kind of wants to hit her. "It mattered, Santana. Okay, you can do what you want and that's cool, but – it mattered to _me_. I didn't want to be that person, and I kind of wound up being it anyway, and it _sucks_ so can I please have the right to be messed up about that? And not want to do it again? Are we still fighting about that bit? We're kind of off-topic, but if we are, by this point you're probably pressuring me and–"

"Just shut up, Finn," Santana says. "And we're back to the 'better than me' thing, which, yeah, pisses me off. Why the fuck am I so shameful? You can't even admit you screwed such a _whore_?"

"No! Santana, it's not about you. I'm just–"

"Better than me."

"Not better than you. Better than _someone_ , but..."

Honestly, what he did with Santana – even if she started it, even if she seemed way more okay with what happened after than he was, he still kind of feels like he took advantage of her. Because he's been with the jocks who look at her like she's a piece of meat; who just _expect_ a girl like Santana to give it up to anyone, anytime, and get pissed if she doesn't do just that. He doesn't understand it, and he hardly even likes her half the time, but – they way everyone treated her always made him feel kind of sick.

And then he did the exact same thing, using her to get over his issues. He thinks he's allowed to hate himself for that.

"Yo, Hudson? Back to the real world?"

He sighs and looks back at her. "Santana, this is a really fucking bad idea. Just go."

" _No_." She steps forward and pushes him up against the door (she is _way_ too strong for her size). "Finn, seriously. Hot chick offering herself, free of charge here. What is your problem?"

"Haven't you been paying any attention?" he says, gesturing wildly with his hands. "I can't just use you for sex like some _douchebag_ would. I did it once and it was a fucking mistake and I'm sorry. But I'm _not that guy_ , Santana."

She scoffs. "Yeah, you are."

He blinks. "Huh?"

"Don't you get it?" She looks annoyed. "Finn Hudson, you are a _dick_. It's why you spent so much time throwing Kurt into dumpsters and eggs and Rachel and everything. It's why you never stood up for Kurt during the whole Karofsky thing. You lose your girlfriends, your friends, even your parents? Because you don't fucking deserve them. I mean, come on, you started off your whole thing with Rachel by making out with her in the auditorium while you were dating another chick, then pretending it never happened and kind of ignoring her. How well were you expecting this to go?"

"How do you even know–"

"You expect yourself to be this great guy; like a leader, a hero. You're not, Finn. _We're_ not. We're the _bad guys_ , Finn. And no matter how good you try and be, every bit of your nature is screaming _asshole_." She shrugs. "Just thought you'd be happier if you'd give in and admit it. I am."

He shakes his head, blinking back tears. "I'm not an asshole."

"I'm sure a lot of people believe that when you were throwing slushies in their faces, or pee balloons; or stuffing their airvents full of tuna, or – do I have to go on?"

He shakes his head. "Stop it. Get out of here."

She rolls her eyes and steps way into his personal space. "Come on, _Finnocence_ – you've already got a crazy ironic nickname. Bad guys get all the best lines. Have _fun_ with it, for christ's sake."

Santana's looking up at him expectantly, tapping on his chest. He doesn't know what to think. He doesn't want to be the bad guy, but she has a point that trying's hardly helped so far. Maybe, it would be better for everyone if he was just... at least they'd know to expect it from him.

He sighs and gives in.

He never learns.

* * *

Finn wakes, and blinks a few times.

He knows he had a dream, but it's quickly doing what dreams do and running away – he thinks it might of been a sex dream. About Santana. Although he thinks he mostly remembers her yelling at him.

He winces at the guilt and rolls over to check the clock. Okay, what the fuck, it's six AM. Why is he awake? He rolls over and tries to get back to sleep.

It doesn't really work out – despite how stupidly early it is, he feels weirdly energetic and edgy. And he didn't fall asleep until like, two AM last night, so he really should be exhausted after four hours sleep. Still, he sighs and pulls himself out of bed.

He wanders down the hall and peeks into Mom and Burt's room when he sees the door's open. They're there, cuddled up in the bed. It's not really a surprise, but he didn't see them before going to bed last night, so he just wanted to check. He feels like he should do something nice for them.

He wanders down to the kitchen, and thinks some more about this. Food. He should make everyone food. _Pancakes_ – everyone loves pancakes, and it's been a while. Okay, he doesn't actually know how to make pancakes, but he can learn. They have a recipe book around here somewhere.

He follows the recipe as best he can, but the flour in the batter winds up all lumpy and clumped and no matter how much he stirs it, it doesn't seem to _want_ to stop being all lumpy and clumped. And when it's time for him to flip the first pancake, it won't fucking move off the pan; he's smearing batter from the uncooked side everywhere and making it look ugly, and kind of cutting the thing up. He keeps poking at it, trying to make it go up, past the point where he smells it start to burn.

He kind of wants to cry with frustration. It's just a damn pancake.


End file.
